


Let Me Count The Ways

by QuickSilverFox3



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Friendship/Love, M/M, Multi, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:28:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28649046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: There are many different ways to say 'I love you.'Joe, Nicky and Booker are fluent in them all.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Booker | Sebastien le Livre/Nicky | Nicolo di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	1. Pull over.  Let me drive for awhile.

**Author's Note:**

> [ List here!](https://inkformyblood.tumblr.com/post/639368056681938944/one-hundred-ways-to-say-i-love-you) Can't promise *when* this will be finished. But it will be finished.

They all woke when the car lurched suddenly sideways — Joe’s hand snapping sideways to press against Booker’s chest as he yanked on the wheel — the blare of the horn from the passing van fading into an uncomfortable, heavy silence as they rounded the corner, firmly back on the correct side of the narrow mountain road.

“Joe.”

Joe was already shaking his head before Booker had finished speaking, carefully returning his hand to the wheel, knuckles cracking with the force of his grip, but they both could see the exhaustion weighing down his shoulders, the faint uncontrollable twitching of his hands. “I’m fine.”

“I can drive?” Nicky offered, pulling against his seatbelt for a moment to press reverent fingers to Joe’s shoulder from the back seat. Joe turned to kiss Nicky’s hand, his eyes turned soft in the light of the passing signs.

“Caro, I love you more than life itself, and, because of this, I will not let you drive.”

“We’re meeting the others in Zakopane after all, not Liechtenstein,” Booker chimed in, leg picking it’s relentless tempo back up, too much caffeine — the sour taste lingering in the back of his throat — running rampant through his veins. 

Nicky swore at him, a language older than Booker could comprehend twisting his vowels to something guttural, but his smile hadn’t faded as he sat back in his seat with a shrug. He pulled out his phone, picking at the small buttons with a single finger. His eyes met Booker’s in the rearview mirror, and Booker saw his own worry reflected there: the same crease in their brow, the way their eyes both drifted to Joe time and time again, as if they were caught in his orbit.

“I can drive from here.” Booker pressed a hand to Joe’s thigh, feeling the muscle tense and relax beneath the soft denim. “Joe, please. Pull over. Let me drive for awhile.””

Joe stared out of the windscreen for a moment longer before nodding slowly, his shoulders slowly slumping as they pulled over into a small passing place, the car shuddering as the road changed from smooth tarmac to rough loose stone. 

“Only for a little while,” Joe murmured, leaning over to kiss Booker. The angle was off, but the press of Joe’s hand — warm and calloused, a thumb smoothing over the rasp of stubble at Booker’s jaw — sent a shiver rattling down his spine. 

Cold air spilled into the car as they all got out, boots kicking idly against the gravel, and Joe took Nicky’s seat in the back. Nicky leant in to wrap a blanket over Joe’s shoulders, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as Joe mumbled his thanks, the words lost in a jaw-cracking yawn.

Booker settled into the seat, warmed by Joe’s body heat and carrying with it the scent of sandalwood, Nicky climbing into the passenger seat. 

“I mean it,” Joe called from the back, clumsily knocking his hand against the back of Booker’s seat.

“We know, habibi,” Nicky replied, twisting to smooth the blanket over Joe’s hip. He caught Booker’s eye with a wink, and they shared a grin as the drive began again, Nicky quietly humming in the seat next to Booker, tapping out a drumbeat on his thigh.


	2. It Remind Us of You

The sun stared down relentlessly, an uncaring watcher that cracked the ground beneath their feet. Booker stuck to the shadows, miserable and dragging his feet until the moment he had to leave his slight sanctuary. 

He went willing when Nicky tugged on his hand however, the other man turning his face towards the sun like a flower, the light creating gold in his hair. 

“Where are we going?” Booker sighed, tugging Nicky back to the shadows — the other man close enough for a moment for Booker to count the faint freckles that the sun revealed — to kiss his cheek. Nicky hummed, the fresh scent of mint and his cologne filling Booker’s lungs and lying on his tongue before he continued his search. His eyes were constantly moving, every muscle tensed and ready.

“There is a stall.” Nicky’s voice was quiet, so similar to how he sounded in the early hours of the morning when the night drew old regrets and worries from beneath his iron control that Booker stepped closer, lightly bumping his shoulder with his own. Nicky laughed, tipping his head back to expose the corded line of his throat.

“Ah! There.”

Nicky was moving even before Booker could register what had happened, the sheer centuries of war between them becoming stark as Booker stumbled before he caught himself, adjusting his stride to match Nicky’s.

“Why couldn’t Joe come…” Booker trailed off as he caught sight of the small stall, tucked into the alcove of a building. The reflected sunlight from the gently swinging windchimes cast twisting shadows across the dark muslin. The metal rings were simple threads of silver and iron, but they were bound together smoothly, each stamped with their own motif. Unbidden, Booker’s thoughts went to Joe: his easy grin; the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he laughed; and the steady drag of his hands across their waists.

“See?” Nicky’s grin was proud before he turned to the seller, speaking too quickly for Booker to follow before money was exchanged for a small box containing the first ring Booker’s gaze had lingered on.

They didn’t speak on the way back to the small apartment, settling into a comfortable silence that was tinged with a buzzing anticipation. Joe hadn’t moved from the spot he had settled before they left, sprawled across the sofa with the remote held loosely in one hand. He had settled on a soap — the picture filled with static but the audio was clear — and turned to grin at them both as they entered.

Nicky crossed the gap in a matter of moments, cupping Joe’s face and kissing him, breaking apart to brush their noses together. One of Joe’s hands had fallen to Nicky’s hip, almost out of habit, and the other extended towards Booker in a wave. Booker snorted, crossing over to them to kiss Joe in greeting, as Nicky shifted backwards on his lap. 

“Here!”

Joe’s brow furrowed for a moment as he considered the small parcel. “What’s this for, caro?”

Nicky winked at Booker, reaching out to draw him half a step closer via his belt loop. “It reminded us of you.”


End file.
